WILLIAM

It's gone by Heaven, Not a denier is left. Impossible zart I have had two suckers, Able to spend the wealthy Craesus store. Why a Lawyer and a Whore, See here comes one, dost think this petticoat, A perfumed smock, and twice a week a bath, Can be maintained with half a years revenues, No by Heaven, we Annual younger brother's, Must go to't by hole-sale, by hole-sale man These creatures are maintained: her very face Has cost a hundred pound. The common trick, Say you, a pox upon such common tricks, They will undo us all. What should I do? I'aue passed my word to keep this Gentlewoman, Till I can place her to her own content, And what is a Gentleman but his word. Why so, I thought as much You are Like our Citizens to men in needs, Which cry it's pity, a proper Gentleman, Should want money, yet not and usuring slave, Will lend him a denier, to help his wants, Will you lend me forty shillings. Why God-amercy, there's some goodness in thee, Yowl not repent. Thus in Ramme-alley lies a fellow, by name Throat: one that professes law, but indeed Has neither law nor conscience, a fellow That never saw the bar, but when his life Was called in question for a cozenage, The Rogue is rich, to him go you, tell him That rich Sir John Somerfield. Then at the court There are none foes, for all things there are common. When shall I here from you. Let me alone for the rest, if I gull not And go beyond my open throted lawyer, For all his book cases of Tricesimo nono And Quadragessimo octavo: let me Like waiting Gentlewomen be ever bound, To fit upon my heals, and pick rushes, Will you about this gear. Then fare you well, yole meet me. Adue: now you pernicious Coccatrice, You see how I must skelder for your good, I'll bring you where you shall have means to cheat, If you have grace enough to apprehend it. Tut, I know thee a good rascal, lets in, And on with all your neat and finest rags. On with your cloak and safeguard, you arrant drab, You must cheat without all conscience, filtch for thee & me. Do but thou act what I shall well contrive, Weel teach my Lawyer a new way to thrive. Exeunt. It shall be so, I'll cheat him thats flat. who told you so did lie, Foot, a Gentleman cannot leave the City And keep the suburbs to take a little Physic, But strait some slave will say he hides his head: I hide my head within a Suburb hold, I could have holes at Court to hide my head, Were I but so disposed. Father, father, Zart will you undo your posterity. Will you sir undo your posterity? I can but kill my brother then hang my self, And where is then your house, make me not dispare, Foot now I have God a wench, worth by the year Two thousand pound and upwards, to cross my Hope's: Would ere a clown in Christendom doo't but you. Why law, my brother knows Reason, and what and honest man should do. She's coming here behind, My father right, I knew you could not hold Out long with a woman, but give something Worthy your gift and her acceptance father, This chain were excellent by this good-light, She shall give you as good if once her lands Come to my fingering. That shall be sir. My man. A Ruffian sir, By heaven, as tall a man as ere drew sword, Not being counted of the damned crew, A was her father's Butler, his name is Beard, Of with your Mask, now shall you find me true, And that I am a son unto a Knight, This is my father. That kiss shall cost your chain. I dare be sworn she has. I by this light will I. Some six weeks since. We cannot stay to talk, for slaves pursue, I have a house shall lodge us till the Priest May make us sure. I humbly thank you sir. Jove and Priapus speed you, yowl return. Why this came cleanly off. Give me the chain, you little Cockatrice, Why this was luck, foot four hundred crowns God at a clap, hold still your own you whore, And we shall thrive. I, when will your nose and beard perform as much. Welcome love, kiss this Gentlewoman, Throat. Th'art not merry love, good master Throat Bid this Gentlewoman welcome: she is one Of whom you may receive some courtesy In time. Now my Virago, it's done, all's cocksure, I have a Priest will mumble up a marriage, Without bell, book, or candle, nimble slave, A honest Welshman that was a Taylor, But now is made a Curate. What all amort? whats the matter? do you here? Has the gudgin bit. Hold him to it wench, And it it'll hit by heaven: why art so sad? Foot wench we will be married to night, Weel sup at mitre, and from thence My brother and we three will to the Savoy, Which done, I tell thee girl, weel hand over head, Go to't pell mell for a maidenhead, Come yo'are lusty, you wenches are Like Bells', You give no music, till you feel the clapper, Come Throat a tortch, we must be gone. Whats the matter Lieutenant. How, which way? this is some plot, Home. Come we will find her, or weel fire the Suburbs, Put up your tools, lets first along show-lane, Then strait up Holborne, If we find her not; Weel thence direct to Throats, if she be lost I am undone and all your Hope's are crossed. Exit. But thirteen pound, endue to Beard the Butler, Do but bail me, and I will save you harmless. Law there; Rogues, Foot I know he would not let me want For thirteen pounds. Sergeants do your kind, hale me to the hold, Seal a release, Sergeants come, to prison, Seal a release for Mistress Somerfield, First I will stink in Jail, be eat with Lice, Endure and object worse then the Devil himself, And that's ten Sergeants peeping through the grates Upon my lousy linen, come to Jail, Foot a release. My wife, foot my wife, let me go Sergiants. Foot that's not my fault, I would have lands If I could get em. I'll first be damned ere I will loose my right, Unless a give me up my forfeit mortgage, And bail me of this Actium. Lets have no whispering. They shall not. Was ever man thus cheated of a wife: Is this my mortgage. Well I will subscribe, God give you joy, Although I have but little cause to wish it, My heart will scarce consent unto my hand, 'Tis done. What am I free. Even thus Throat farewell, since it's thy luck to have her, I still shall pray, you long may live together: Now cach to his affairs. God Bless thee parcel of men flesh, Thar't a fool, I'll assure thee theres no music in it. Foot dost take us for fiddlers Men say y'aue tricks, You're and admirable Ape, and you can do More feats then three Baboons, we must have some. No by this good light, I'll play Him that goes with the motions. Stand back boy, and be a spectator, Gentlemen You shall see the strange nature of and outlandish beast, That ha but two legs, bearded Like a man, Nosd Like a Goose, and toungd Like a woman, Lately brought from the land of Catita, A beast of much understanding, were it not given Too much to the love of Venery: do I not do it well? Not a whit by this light, Banks his horse and he were taught both in a stable. As for that take no care, for by this light Sheele not have thee. No not have thee, By this hand, flesh, and blood, she is resolved To make my father a most fearful Cuckold, And he's resolved to save his soul by her. Thus, all old men which marry Young wives, shall questionless be saved, For while th'are young, they keep other men's wives, And when th'are old, they keep wives for other men, And so by satisfaction procure salvation. Why thou dejected tail of a Crab, Does not the fair Constantiam Somerfield Dote on thy filthy face; and wilt thou wed A wanton widow? what canst thou see To dote on her. Dost love her then, take a purgation, For love I'll assure thee is a binder: Of all things under heaven, there's no fitter parralells then a Drunkard and a Lover: for a drunkard looses his senses, so does your lover; your drunkard is quarrelsome, so is your lover: your drunkard will swear, lie, and speak great words, so will your lover: your drunkard is most desirous of his lechery, and so is your lover: Well the night grows old, farewell: I am so much thy friend, that none shall bed thee, While fair Constantiam is resolved to wed thee. Ex. On this one hour depends my Hope's and Fortune's, Foot I must have this widow: what should my Dad Make with a wife, that scarce can wipe his nose, Untruss his points, or hold a Chamber-pot, Steady till a pisses: The doors are fast, It's now the amid of night; yet shall this chain, Procure access and conference with the widow: What though I cheat my father, all men have sins, Though in their several kinds, all ends in this, So they get gold, they care not whose it is. Begging the Court, use bears the City out, Lawyers their quirks, thus goes the world about, So that our villainies have but different shapes, Effects all one, and poor men are but Apes, To imitate their betters, this is the difference, All great men's sins must still be humored, And poor men's vices largely punished, The privilege that great men have in evil, Is this, they go unpunished to the Devil Therefore I'll in, this chain I know will move, Gold and rich stones, wins coyest ladies love. Knocks. But make some hast, Why so it'll take, zart how a waiting maid, Can shake a fellow up that is casheerd, And has no money: foot should she keep the chain, And not come down, I must turn Citizen, Be banckrout, and crave the Kings protection But here she comes. I have some secrets to acquaint you with, Please you to let the chamber maid shake off, And stand as Centinel. You shall have secrets More pleasing, nay here sweet widow, Some wantons do delight to see men creep, And on their knees to woe them. For ever let me creep upon the ground, Unless you here my suit. Foot I'll first be hanged, nay if you go You shall leave your smock behind you widow, Keep close your womanish weapon, hold your tongue, Nor speak, cough, sneeze or stamp, for if you do, By this good blade I'll cut your throat directly, Peace, stir not, by Heaven I'll cut your throat If you but stir: speak not, stand still, go to, I'll teach coy widows a new way to woe, Come you shall kiss, why so, I'll stab by Heaven If you but stir, now here, first kiss again, Why so, stir not, Now come I to the point, My Hope's are passed, nor can my present state, Afford a single halfpenny, my father Hates me deadly; to beg, my birth forbids, To steal, the law, the hang man, and the Rope With one consent deny; to go a trust, The City common-council has forbade it, Therefore my state is desperate, stir not, And I by much will rather choose to hang, Then in a ditch or prison-hole to starve, Resolve, wed me, and take me to your bed, Or by my soul I'll strait cut off your head, Then kill my self, for I had rather die, Then in a street live poor and lowsily: Do not I know you cannot love my father. A widow that has known the quid of things, To dote upon and old and crazed man, That stinks at both ends, worse then and elder pipe, Who when his blood and spirit are at the height, Hath not a member to his palsy body, But is more limber then a Kings head pudding, Took from the pot half sod do I not know this? Have you not wealth enough, to serve us both? And am not I a pretty handsome fellow, To do your drudgery, come, come, resolve. For by my blood, if you deny your bed, I'll cut your throat, without equivocation, If you be pleased hold up your finger, if not By heaven I'll gar my whyniard through your weombe, Is't a match. Yowl prate to loud. Nor speak one word against my honest suit. Kiss upon that and speak, Why by her comings in, a little thing, Her friends have left her which with putting to best use. And often turning yields her a poor living, But what of that; shes now shook off, to thee I'll only cleave, I'll be thy merchant. And to this wealthy fair, I'll bring my beware, And here set up my standing: therefore resolve, Nought but my sword is left ift be a match, Clap hands, contract and strait to bed, If not, pray, forgive and straight goes off your head. Then strait lets both to bed. You shall not sleep vpont. And honest contract is as good as marriage. A bird in hand you know the proverb widow, I thee to wife, Now to thy bed and there weel end this strife. Musicians, mnistrills, foot rogues, For Gods love leave your filthy squeaking noise And get you gone, the widow and my self, Will scamble out the shaking of the sheets, Without your music, we have no needs of fiddlers, To our dancing, foot have you no manners, Cannot a man take his natural rest. For your scraping, I shall wash your gut-strings. If you but stay a while; yet honest rascals, If yowl let us have the tother crash The widow and I'll keep time, theres for your pains, Be not so furious sir, I have but this, the other was my whore, Which now is married to and honest Lawyer. She says most true father, the soul once gone, The best partly of a man is gone. She's mad. They're mad, stark mad, I am sorry sir you have lost those happy wits By which you lived so well. The air grows cold, Therefore I'll take my leave. You do me wrong, Zart I never saw your heir. Here stand I for my client, this Gentleman For my client, I say the wench brought unto your house, Since all our friends so happily are met, Here will I choose a husband: this be the man, Whom since I left your house in shape of Page, I still have followed. Then are we all paired, I and my lass, You and your wife, the lawyer and his wench, And father fallen you aboard of the widow, But then my brother. Thats all one; If God had not made Some elder-brothers fools, how should witty Younger brother's be maintained, Strike up Music, lets have and old song, Since all my tricks have found so good success, Weel sing, dance, dice, and drink down heaviness. Come now to Ram-alley. There shalt thou lie, Till I provide a Priest. Bless thee Throat. I that's well said, we are almost weary, But Master Throat, if any come to inquire For me, my brother, or this Gentlewoman, We are not here, nor have you herd of us. Art sure he will be here Beard. Be. Sir. Bear up the torch, and keep your way apace Directly to the Savoy. Gone. 'Tis a thing unpossible, they should be gone Thus far and we not see them. Oh Master Throat, unless you speak good news, My Hope's are crossed, and I undone for ever. Nay good sir hear? Did not my love return? came she not hither, For Jove's love speak. Is the man mad, Or drunk, why Master Throat know you to whom You talk so saucily? Why parcel of men flesh art not a woman? But widow wheres the old stinkerd my father, They say widow you dance altogether. After his pipe. Better widow? Blood dost think I have not learned my prick song, What not the court pricksong? one up and another down, Why I haue't to a hare by this light. I hope thou love him not. How marry him, foot art mad widow, Woot marry and old crazed man, With meager looks, with visage won, With little legs and cryncled thighs, With Chapfalne gums and deep sunk eyes, Why a dog seazd on ten days by death Stinks nor so loathsome as his breath, Nor can a city common Jaques, Which all men's Breeches undertakes, Yield fasting stomachs such a favour. As does his breath, and ugly favour. Does she so, and thou must be her waiting woman. Faith thou wilt make a fine dainty creature, To fit at a chamber door and look fleas, In thy Ladies dog while she is showing, Some slippery britcht Courtier rare faces, In a by window, foot widow, Marry me a young and complete gallant, May be; nay you're, Women and honesty are as near alyde, As parsons lives are to their doctrines, One and the same: but widow now be ruled, I hope the heavens will give thee better grace, Then to accept the father and I yet live, To be bestowed, if you wed the stinckerd, You shall find the tale of Tantalus To be no fable widow. Come get up then quick. Remember noble Captain, You skip when I shall shake my whip. Now fit, What can you do for the great Turk? What can you do for the Pope of Room? Hark, he stirs not, he moves not, he waggeth not, What can you do for the town of Geneva sirrah? Foot can a jump so well. I must come in to the widow. Dost here sweet Chambermaid, by heaven I come, With letters from my father, I have brought her stones, Jewels and chains, which she must use to morrow. Dost here, By this good night, my Father and I are friends, Take but this cheine for token, give her that, And tell her I have other things for her, Which by my father's will I am commanded To give to her own hands. It is not fit forsooth that I should on, Before she leave the room. What outcries call me from my naked bed, Who calls Jeronimo, speak here I am. Whats here? A man hanged up and all the murderers gone? And at my door to lay the gilded on me. This place was made to pleasure Citizens wives, Enter Tafata. And not to hang up honest Gentlemen Come Isabella, help me to lament, For sigthes are stopped, and all my tears are spent. These clothes I oft have seen, aye me my friend: Pursue the murderers, raise all the street Is there yet life, Horatio my deer boy, Horatio! Horatio, what hast thou misdone, To loose thy life when life was new begun? Why who denies it. He supplants thee and I supplanted him. Come come, you shall be friends come forgive her: For by this light there is no remedy, Unless you will betake you to my leavings. Dost know where she is boy? A shall do it boy, A shall do it, go fetch her boy, foot my father, Stand too't now old wench, stand too't now. Saving your tale sir, I'll show you how, April showers spring May flowers So merrily sings the Cucko: The truth is, I have laid my knife aboard, The widow sir is wedded. Bedded. Why my good father what should you do with a wife? Would you be crested? will you needs thrust your head In on of Vulcan's Helmets? will you perforce Wear a City cap and a Court feather? How now? My Lawyer pinioned I begin to stink Already. Who lives would think that you could prate so fast, Your hands being bound behind you, foot a talks With as much ease as if a were in's shirt. Begin. Who knocks so fast? I thought 'twas you, what news. I, I, that that Good brother led her in, Master Throat and I Will follow instantly, now Master Throat Exit. It rests within your power to pleasure me, Know that this same is sir John Somerfields Heir, Now if she chance to question what I am, Say son unto a Lord, I pray thee tell her I have a world of land, and stand in hope To be created Barron, for I protest I was constrained to swear it forty times And yet shee'le scarce believe me. I prithee doo't effectually: Shat have a quarter share by this good light, In all she has, I prithee forget not To tell her the Small-shanks have been dancers, Tilters, and very ancient Courtiers, And in request at Court since sir John Short-hose With his long silk stockings was beheaded, Wilt thou do this? Excellent, I'll but shift my boots, and then Go seek a Priest, this night I will be sure, If we be sure, it cannot be undone, Can it Master Throat ? Nay then hang care, come lets in. By heaven she's gone Unless she be returned since we last left you. To our pepetuall shames 'tis now too true. A pox on all such luck, I will find her, or by this good light I'll fire all the City, come let's go, Who ever has her shall not long enjoy her, I'll prove a contract, lets walk the round, I'll have her if she keep above the ground. Exit. Rescue, resku. I'll give you bail Hang off honest catchpoles Here are two retainers, hangers on sir, Which will consume more then ten liveries, If by your means they be not strait shook off: I am arrested. But hold your tongue, Or by this light I'll truss you up again, Zeart rail on my wife, am I a stinkerd, Or do I dote? speak such another word, And up you truss again, am I a stinkerd? Now may I go put me on a clean shirt And hang my self, foot who would have thought The Fox had earthed so near me; whats to be done? What miracle shall I now undertake To win respective with God and men? What if I turned Courtier and lived honest? Sure that would do it: I dare not walk the streets, For I dwindle at a Sergeant in buff Almost as much as a new Player does At a plague bill certified forty: Well I Like this widow, a lusty plump drab Has substance both in bretch and purse, And pity and sin it were she should be wed To a furd cloacke and a nightcap. I'll have her, This widow I will have: her money Shall pay my debts and set me up again, 'Tis here, 'tis almost forged, which if it take, The world shall praise my wit, admire my fate. Exit. Come wench of gold, For thou shalt get me gold, beside odd ends Of silver: weel purchase house and land, By thy bore gettings, wentch, by thy bore gettings, How sayest Lieutenant- Beard, does she not look Like a wentch newly stole from a window? Why thats enough, Foot my Father and the goose my brother, Back you two. Retyer sweet Lieutenant, And come not on, till I shall wave you on. Tut our Curate craves no licence, a swears His living cam to him by a miracle, Why a paid nothing fort, A swares that few be free from Simony, But only welshmen, and those a says to, Are but mountain Priests His reason is this, That all their livings are so rude and bore, That not a man, will venture his damnation By giving money for them: a does protest, There is but two pair, of hoose, and shoes, In all his Parish. Foot, what would you have me do, my land is gone, My credit of less trust then Courtiers words To men of judgement, and for my debts I might deserve a Knighthood; what's to be done? The Knight my father will not once vouchsafe To call me son; That little land a gave, Throat the Lawyer swallowed at one gob, For less then half the worth, and for the City There be so many rascals, and tall yeomen Would hang upon me for their maintenance, Should I but peep or step within the gates, That I am forced only to ease my charge, To live here in the suburbs: or in the town To walk in Tenebris, I tell you sir, Your best retierd life is and honest Punk In a thatched house with Garlic: tell not me, My Punk's my Punk, and noble Lechery Sticks by a man, when all his friends forsake him. Why ther's it, you hear her what she says, Would not he be damned that should forsake her, Says she not well, can you propound a course, To get my forfeit land, from yonder rogue, Parcel Lawyer, parcel Devil, all Knave, Thrate, throat. Oh nay second self, Come let me buss thy beard, we are all made, Why are so melancholy, dost want money? Look here's gold, and as we pass along, I'll tell thee how I God it, not a word But that she's Somerfields heir, my brother Swallows it with more ease, then a Dutchman Does slap-Dragons: a comes, now to my Lawyers: Kiss my wife, good brother; she is a wench Was born to make us all. Foot shall I give two thousand pound a year For nothing. Foot would I had known so much, I would have been bold to have lain with your page. To service, Why so she does, she is my Landeresse, And by this light, no puny Inn a Court But keeps a Laundress at his command To do him service, and shall not I, would! Beg his chain wench. And took not I my Q: wast not good, Did I not bring you off, you arrant drab, Without a counterbuff? look who comes here, And three merry men, and three merry men, And three merry men be we a. Art not weary. Is lately dead, and that my Hope's stand fair To get his only daughter. If I speed, And have but means to steal away the wench, Tell him I reckon him my chiefest friend, To entertain us till our nuptial rites May be accomplished, and could you but procure My elder brother meet me on the way, And but associate me unto his house, 'Tweare hit i'faith, I'de give my cunning Throat And honest slit for all his tricks in law. Dost think I lie? by this good light Adrian I love her with my soul, here's letters And other Jewels sent her from my father, Is she a bed. Dear widow, pity the state of a young, Poor, yet proper Gentleman, by Venus pap Upon my knees I'de creep unto your lap For one small drop of favour, and though this face Is not the finest face, yet it's been praised By Ladies of good judgement in faces. Why so, in my conscience to be a Countess, Thou wouldst marry a hedgehog: I must confess, 'Tis state to have a coxcomb kiss your hands, While yet the chamberly is scarce wypte off, To have and upright usher march before you, Bore headed in a Tuftafata jerkin Maid of your old cast gown, shows passing well, But when you feel your husbands pulses, thats hell, Then you fly out and bid strait smocks farewell, What should descry him, Unless it be his nose? and as for that; Thou mayest protest a was thy father's butler, And for thy love is likewise run away, Nay sweet Lieutenant now forbear to puff, And let the brissells of thy beard grow downward, Reverence my Punk and Pandarize a little, The many of thy rank that do profess it, Yet hold it no disparagement. hold gentlemen. God give you joy sir. With that money I will redeem my forfeit land, and wed My Coccatrice to a man of worship, To a man of worship by this light. Sir leave this firck of law, or by this light I'll give your throat a slit, came she not hither? Answer to that point. That is a lie, She keeps her self and me, yet I protest, She's not dishonest. not so, Speak my good wench, have I not done thee right. It's a stark lie.